


Sister Moe, a Meme

by Dunnrulestheworld



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other, it's a creative essay I wrote for a class, this is nonfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 03:11:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6836635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dunnrulestheworld/pseuds/Dunnrulestheworld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A really short little thought about my little sister</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sister Moe, a Meme

“Okay, give me like a double peace sign,” I said to Moe, while holding up my phone to snap the picture. 

“Haha yes that’s perfect, okay now give me an orant figure, like with your arms out like this,” I held out my arms as if I were praising the sky to demonstrate. Moe complied to both commands, giving me meme-worthy snapshots of her dressed as a nun. 

“Okay, now just do whatever you want.” I took one last photo, this time with her arms curled up by her face and with her mouth in the creepiest smile I think I had ever seen from her. Those pictures are still a running joke in my friend group, and I’ve shown them to all of Moe’s friends too. 

I only really vaguely remember when Moe was born. I remember I stayed with my dad’s parents while my mom was in the hospital, and I remember that they called me the morning Moe was born, telling me that I had a little sister and that I could come visit. What I don’t remember is that I told my parents to “take her back” because “I wanted a brother”. My parents still like to make fun of me for that. Though, when they do, I have to point out that I wanted a sister in the first place, but when the ultrasound (wrongly) told us that my mom was having a boy, they convinced me that I wanted a brother. I mean, when you convince a four year old that they want a brother and then give them a sister, you can expect them to be a bit less than happy. But nonetheless, there I was, exactly three months after my fifth birthday, holding my new sister in my mom’s hospital bed. I forgot about being angry when I met her. She was small and purple and fat, and I knew that she would grow up to be taller than me (only because she weighed more than me when she was born (I think I’m going to be right though)). 

She’s grown up fast, and all through her childhood, I’ve wanted (and had) to mother her. When she was a baby, I always wanted to take care of her (even though she was nearly half my size at just a six months old (I was really small)). Then, by the time I was ten, I had to take care of her and our younger sister Kenzie whenever our parents weren’t around. It was really only for a few hours tops, but I still had to be more responsible than your average ten year old. Now that Moe is old enough to understand a lot of the things I’m involved with, I can talk to her about just about anything. I can share jokes I found on the internet with her, I can talk to her about my relationships with my friends, school, everything. She’s become one of my closest friends. And she still never fails to make me laugh.

There was this time just a few weeks ago, where we were both laughing so hard our faces ached and we were crying. I had gotten off of work at 8:30, so we were eating dinner late. Our dad and Kenzie were both done and watching tv, but Moe and I were taking our time. Moe had decided that she just wanted a little more spicy ranch for her fries. So she tipped the bottle so very carefully, watching the ranch inch closer to the lip of the bottle, holding her breath so as to keep it from suddenly spurting onto her plate. But then she ever so slightly squeezed the bottle. It was just for half a second, but it was just enough to make the bottle vomit ranch by the gallon onto her plate. She hefted a huge sigh, but it was hidden by the sound of my cackling. She had been so careful. She only wanted a little bit of ranch, and she was going to make sure she got it, but it instead went all over her plate, and she had entirely too much. Moe let her head fall to the table and started laughing with me. She couldn’t believe just as much as me that she had spilled THAT MUCH RANCH when she had only wanted the tiniest of drops. It was hard to stop laughing at all for probably a good twenty minutes. 

All in all, I’m so glad I got Moe instead of a brother. I got my goofy, loving, best friend of a sister instead of who knows what. And I’m really happy about that. I couldn’t have asked for a better sister, or a better friend.


End file.
